To Live Lies
by Vader's Fallen Angel
Summary: "Then we'd be living a lie…I couldn't do that. Could you, Anakin? Could you live like that?" "No. You're right. It would destroy us." And it did.


**A/N: **Whitesun is Beru Lars' maiden name.

.

.

Padme = 47

Anakin = 42

Luke and Leia = 20

Caleb = 15

Mark = 12

.

.

_Italicized text shows flashbacks._

**Bold text shows Anakin's daydreams.**

Regular text shows what is happening in the present.

.

.

I couldn't find a dictionary of any Star Wars languages so I used Arabic and Celtic words instead. If you happen to speak either, I apologize for mangling your language. Know that I did it with love.

.

.

Special thanks to ibelieveintruelove for helping beta.

.

.

.

.

.

"_Then we'd be living a lie…I couldn't do that. Could you, Anakin? Could you live like that?"_

"_No. You're right. It would destroy us."_

.

.

**Luke and Caleb were trying to sneak up on Leia again. A book opened on her lap, the young woman appeared to be ignorant of the impending attack but Anakin could see from the way her eyes were not moving and the slight smile on her lips that she was both aware and had planned something to surprise her bothers. Anakin frowned, where was Mark? He scanned for his youngest child with his eyes and in the Force but found nothing. Closing his eyes to concentrate, he was surprised when a young, brown haired, brown eyed, very wet boy jumped on his back.**

** "Got you!"**

** "You did!" Anakin laughed, "You're getting better at concealing your force presence." He grabbed the boy and swung him around so the child was in his arms, "But you forgot something."**

** "What?" Instead of replying Anakin let go and his son fell into the warm water of the lake. Sputtering the Mark came up an immediately began to splash his father. Anakin laughed and began to return fire, both unaffected by the water as they were plenty wet already from swimming all day.**

** "Ani." Anakin turned, giving Mark a slight advantage that he instantly took, as he heard his wife's voice…**

.

**"**Master Skywalker?" Anakin opened his eyes and looked up. He was kneeling on his meditation mat and thus looked slightly up at the teenager framed in the doorway.

"Padwan Whitesun. Please come in." The boy in the door hesitated a moment before doing so. Anakin stood and stretched, working out the kinks and mentally bringing himself back to reality.

Caleb walked in the room, looking around. He had never been in Master Skywalker's rooms before. A beige couch sitting behind a low table with a few chairs dominated the main part of the room while a large floor to ceiling window took up the far wall, all standard for a master's room in the Temple. There was a rocker sitting in one corner of the room that looked like it hadn't seen use in at least a decade. There were some trinkets on the shelves, a few holopads, but they felt obligatory and made the place seem more like a museum with items on proper display than a home. Around the edges of the room various mechanical projects sat forlorn. The whole room felt rather abandon oddly enough. Automatically Caleb did as he had been trained and asked the Force to explain whet he didn't understand. But the Force didn't answer.

Absentmindedly Anakin blocked the young force-strong's attempt to probe for answers, more interested in the boy himself than what he was attempting. Every force sensitive who entered could feel something wrong with his room, but their eyes told them little and he was strong enough and skilled enough to insure the Force didn't give him away. Master Kenobi could probably figure it out, if he didn't already know. But Master Kenobi didn't visit him; Anakin ignored the dull ache and studied the boy in front of him. Caleb was fifteen years old with brown hair and blue eyes, Anakin closed his eyes in a moment of pain, blocking out who the boy reminded him of. Anakin had very little contact with Caleb or any of his siblings, but from what he knew Caleb was a studious and thoughtful by nature, but with a mischievous streak that occasionally manifested itself in harmless parks that he convinced his peers to help him implement. He had a sort of quiet charisma that, while not immediately obvious, drew people to him without effort. He was a good kid, and would make a fine knight some day.

Caleb noticed the Master's eyes on him and blushed. "Ah, sorry, Master. I was just looking around."

"Perfectly alright. Was there a reason you decided to visit me?"

"Yes Master Skywalker. I have a few questions and, well, Master Olin doesn't seem to understand but from what he said about you I thought you might."

"Ferus? We haven't had much contact, but if I remember him right he was always a bit of a stickler for the rules," Anakin smiled, "And he was forever bemoaning the fact that I was not. I take it then your questions are about things that might not be approved by the strictest interpretation of the code?"

"No!" was Caleb's immediate reaction. Anakin didn't comment merely gestured, using the force to call cups and saucers and a pot of tea from the kitchen.

Then, "maybe" Caleb conceded. Anakin sat down as the tea poured itself and took a sip, watching the padwan fidget nervously.

"Yes." Caleb sighed, sinking into the chair. "I mean I don't think that you'll be advising me to do things against the code but maybe you might have a, I don't know, a different perspective."

"Everyone has a different perspective. Was there a reason you sought out mine other than your master's laments of my misspent youth?"

"And your status as the Chosen One?" The teen added with a smile, not perceptive enough the pick up on Anakin's flinch at the title. He poured some tea for himself and watched the leaves swirl for a few moments. Anakin sat in silence with a patience he had acquired through age rather than natural disposition.

"You didn't grow up in the temple, right?" Caleb asked suddenly. Anakin knew that this wasn't the question the padwan had come to ask, but nodded and answered anyway.

"Correct. I was brought to the Jedi rather late, when I was nine years old."

"Was life very different before?"

"Yes."

"How?"

.

_Anakin's earliest memories were more scattered images than anything else. They were pieces of a puzzle that when he was curious he tried to fit into some order, filling in what was missing with his own speculation. Most of the time he didn't try to remember. Padme asked a bit about his past and he answered vaguely, telling her truthfully that most he couldn't recall._

_A swirl of blue on a dancing girl's outfit._

_A brown pipe he ducked under to leave the kitchen._

_Music from upstairs._

_Screams from upstairs._

_The feeling of despair from the cells._

_Hearing a girl told to remain quiet as she cried herself to sleep._

_His mother holding him and singing:_

_~ Istilqa, nawm amiq, suairce istilqa habibi mawlud_

_Anta cô habibi iba wa farah_

_Anta cô a' ruh cha owa tûbh staigh habibi fhëin ruh_

_Arafa cha anta cô a' mhôr priscil earrainn min ana, a' mhôr priscil earrainn min ana_

_Aux aisling rakasa an äné ras al leila wa amala anta basma_

_Aux hulum ghanna sin anta bi lutf, izan bi lutf, wa amala äné qalb buidhe_

_Ahad nahar anta tio adafa äné sawt sin a' sawt min kawn habibi mawlud_

_Ahad nahar anta tio rakasa ma' a' soillseadh najma habibi mawlud_

_Gos a uair, istilqa, istilqa habibi mawlud istilqa_

_Wa arafa uhibu anta gun sguir, arafa uhibu anta gun sguir~_

_He didn't remember losing his so-called childish innocence; he never had that to begin with._

_But some memories were clear and complete. Some of those Anakin was glad he could remember. Most he was not. He never told Padme about either type. Violence and cruelty were the rule rather than the exception. Humiliation and degradation were merely par the course. He never wanted his angel to know the life of a hutt's slave. So he never mentioned the flashes of an almost forgotten world._

_Anakin and his friends were hungry that night. He couldn't remember why none of them were allowed to eat that day, but he did remember deciding to do something about it. _

_The night was cold and he could see his breath. Small and quick he already discovered most of the passages. Not halfway there someone spotted him. A rare red-skinned rodian from the Neetakka Clan grabbed Anakin's arm and demanded in Rodese what the boy thought he was doing._

"_Nothing."_

"_Lie" the rodian slammed the four-year-old's head into the wall, hard, before letting go and watching apathetically as the slave crumpled. He grabbed the human by the hair and asked again, "what are you doing?"_

_Anakin thought of backing down, but he and his friends were hungry so he looked into mercenary's eyes and lied, "I'm am doing what my master wants me to do."_

_The young, inexperienced, but strong force user bent all of his will on making the older being believe him._

"_You are doing what your master wants you to do" the rodian repeated mindlessly, much to the slave's shock. But Anakin didn't falter._

"_Let me go about my business,"_

"_Go about your business," the mercenary let go and walked away, not realizing what had happened in his interaction with the human slave-child. In a few minutes he wouldn't remember Anakin at all. Ani was not fully aware of the implications at the time, but in the practical way of a child raised in hardship he immediately filed the situation away to look for possible benefits later and moved on._

_Once in the kitchen Ani snatched what they could eat without preparation. He learned long ago that he could reach things that his hands couldn't touch by just wanting to enough. Once he grabbed all he could carry Anakin slipped away to return to the quarters of the child slaves._

_Anakin was even more careful on his way back, with evidence of wrong doing in his hands he didn't know if he could get out of trouble again. He ducked into a corner when he heard a noise, praying to a deity he didn't believe in that they were merely guards on patrol not sharp-eyed bounty hunters or sharper-eyed assassins. His prayers were heard and the bored gamorreans passed by. There were no more encounters._

_They ate together that night and slept full. The next day there was an uproar in the kitchen when the food was discovered missing. Anakin and the other children knew full well the consequences and when asked every one of them lied._

_Anakin wondered later if these types of situations were why his mother never taught him to tell the truth._

_He remembered the first time he lied to her. Shmi asked him if he was all right. He wasn't. Just hours ago a free-born beat him for no other reason than the man was in a temper. But why tell her what could only hurt her? His mother was as helpless as he when faced with the whims of the free-borns. So he never told her anything bad that happened to him, and pretended not to know what happened to her. Somehow Ani knew that the knowledge that _he _knew what happened to her would hurt worse than anything their masters could do._

_Anakin was a fast learner. He had to be to survive. Slaves that did not learn quickly died quickly. He learned to build things and speak numerous languages and the like. But he also learned to deceive and wear whatever face he needed to at the time._

_Anakin didn't remember much of his past, but he did remember some things._

_He remembered the price of weakness, and not being strong enough._

_He remembered surviving at all cost._

_He remembered learning how to lie._

.

"It was all about survival. Everything else was pushed into the background."

Caleb nodded. "I grew up in the temple, without any memories of another life. I suppose it must have been different for you."

"It was, very." Anakin chuckled, "made it rather hard to fit in at first I can tell you."

"I can imagine," Caleb responded, though he couldn't. But respect and manners had been drilled into him from the crèche. "It must have been difficult to leave things behind."

There was another pause in their conversation before he asked, "Do you ever think about the past?"

.

_Don't look back._

_Such simple instructions._

_Her last words to him before he left._

_But he never promised to obey._

_He never intended to._

_Why should he forget where he came from? Why forget the taste of Silya's bantha meat or Jira's pallies? Why not remember Wald's pettiness and crudeness, his generosity and loyalty? What of Kitster? What of _her_? Was he only to look to the future with new friends and a new family? A being without a home was already caught in the sand storm. A sentient without a past was already lost in the desert. No, he would not forget his home and family, no matter how many stars he visited._

_Really, how could he not look back? How could he just walk away and pretended that he didn't see stooped slave hovels that dreams fled and where children died even as they were held in their mother's arms? Could he just smile and nod and walk off? He no longer belonged here because he was free. But he remembered the sting of the whip on his back, the thud of the cane on his hand, the taste of blood in his mouth, the red dripping on the floor. Should he turn away and pretend he was never an object but always a person. Not look back and what? Pretend that he hadn't watched male and female, young and old, stand in chains with their heads submissively bowed, some because it was proper, some because they were forced, the glittering defiance in their eyes marking them out because nothing could truly hide a living spirit, and some because they didn't remember how to look to the stars and dream, if they had ever known_

_If he never looked back he might forget. If he forgot, then how could he remember what he was fighting for? Better to look back always, reminded himself always, so that he would never loose sight of his goal. He would become a Jedi not for himself but to free the slaves, help the downtrodden, give voice to those who could not speak for themselves…_

_But the Jedi said the same thing his mother did. "Don't look back, don't be attached." But in the same breath told Anakin "remember those we fight for and be compassionate." How was he supposed to feel and not feel for others at the same time?_

_Forget, they all said._

_No, he replied. No._

_Then came those dreams, those awful dreams. Dreams when his mother called out for him. Anakin promised ten years ago to return to her, but there was Jedi training and missions and, horrified, he realized he had begun to forget. Then he asked again and again to go back to her, to help her._

_No. Forget. Dreams pass in time. Don't look back._

_He disobeyed for years, always looking back. Now he took his defiance to the next level and returned to her._

_But by then it was to late._

_Anakin told that snake of a Supreme Chancellor, Sidious, what happened and he told Padme. But he never spoke of it to another soul. He supposed that the Jedi came to the satisfied conclusion that he finally learned to stop looking back. Anakin held no more attachment to the place. Oh he still had technical family there, but he hardly knew them. But he gained several new memories._

_Torture. Murder. Darkness. Rage. Regrets. So many regrets he thought he would drown in them some days. If only he had, if only he hadn't, what if this, what if that. The memories hurt. They tainted everything in his past. Anakin had no contact with his old friends or his step-family even though he was a master now with every right to do as he pleased. He tried not to think about them anymore, never told them why or even said goodbye. He still remembered the world he was born on, but the night of blood and sand invaded every time he looked back. He didn't want what happened to have happened so tried to block it out, tried to just forget everything as if he could make it never exist through a combination of intentional ignorance and force of will. So he smiled and lied and pretended._

_He was good at that._

_Anakin told himself that he didn't remember. He told himself that it was all right and as long as he didn't think about anything from _before_ then it didn't affect him. Sometimes something would abruptly remind him of home, sometimes his mind wandered back for no reason, sometimes he dreamed. Then he lied to himself._

_Turned out he was good at that too._

.

"Anything there that held me is long gone."

Caleb nodded seriously, "that's why we're taken at a young age, to insure that we can remain unattached and therefore unbiased." He sounded like he was quoting something or someone and Anakin had a feeling that Caleb had asked questions about the topic before.

"Did you ever have an attachment?" Anakin knew that the teen was still avoiding his original purpose but responded.

"Oh yes. I was completely infatuated with Senator Amidala in my late teens and early adulthood."

"What happened?"

.

_They had factored in so many things before they go married. What they would do if they were caught; what to do if they had children; what if this; what if that. Foolishly they considered all things that could be possible, but not what was certain. Change. Oh they had spoken about what would happen if their situation changed, but not about their own changes._

_Their times together were always so short they focused on getting in as much as they could. They made love, talked about their lives, shared dreams, laughed, discussed what was important… But they lacked the intangibles. The familiarity that comes with living together for a year, for five years, for ten years, for twenty three years._

_So much of their lives were lived apart. Changes took place gradually, but neither of them saw such things in the other. Both desiring to forget the outside world when they were together, they acted as they always had, forcing back the ways they were altered when apart. They told themselves and each other they were setting aside the faces they were forced to wear for the rest of the world, only being honest with one another._

_One day Anakin felt it was harder to be who he was around Padme than it should have been. That day he realized with horror that he was no longer the man he was when he was with Padme. Away from her he was more mature, speaking rarely but always decisively with the quiet authority that meant more than his adolescent arrogance, advising calmly, acting on instinct, yes, but not acting rashly, no longer as playful and cheerful, etc. But around her he was always twenty-five. Somehow, without his knowledge or consent, the man he was to the rest of the world was the real him and the man he was with Padme was the façade. But he couldn't change now, the habits were too deeply ingrained, and what if she didn't like the other him? She was the certainly of his life. He could not lose her._

_Then he arrived at their apartment one evening unexpectedly and thought to surprise her so remained quiet and slipped in. Padme was speaking with one of her handmaidens and she was different than when she was with him, which he expected, but he was suddenly aware of just how natural the interaction was._

_Anakin slipped back to the Temple and wept that night when he realized that they were no longer two halves of the same soul, but strangers wearing masks they couldn't remove. _

_Padme knew it too. They both knew it and knew the other person was equally aware, but Anakin didn't know how to act with her other than how he always had as his twenty-five year old self, no matter how ill fitting the skin was. She in turn knew no other way to treat him than she had for the entirety of their marriage. The only other established interactions they had were when they had first meet at nine and fourteen where she played a mother/big sister role and they obviously couldn't going back to that, nor did they want to._

_Divorce was never seriously considered by either. They were now just two holoactors playing a couple. But they were husband and wife, parents of four children, they bound themselves together before the holy man for life on their wedding day and what ever else changed, they were still married. That at least would hold true. So they played their roles and played them well, experienced as they were. They never disagreed so never reconciled. They never pushed, so never reacted. They never discussed the little things because they only had time for the big ones, so lost the intimacy that comes with knowing. She changed and grew. He grew and changed. But _they_ never changed, so_ they_ never grew. Instead they drifted and pretended that's what they always wanted because you weren't lying to your partner if your both knew the deception._

_They still made the most of their time together. They discussed what was important, laughed, shared dreams, talked about their lives, made love…_

_One night they lay in bed together, wrapped in their partner's arms as if they could make the puzzle pieces fit perfectly again just by holding each other tight enough._

"_I love you," she whispered._

"_I love you," he replied. Because that had to be true, had to be real, because that was the foundation of his soul and if he didn't love her than there was nothing left._

"_I love you," he repeated and hoped that if he said it enough times it would become the truth again._

.

"I changed. She changed. Such is the nature of things."

"My master said that you can no more stop change than stop the sun from setting."

Anakin smiled, "I remember my mother said almost the same thing." He felt a sudden spike in the emotions of the teenager and knew he brushed an important topic. Anakin waited patiently as the boy sitting on the other side of the table debated something. Finally the padwan came to a decision and moved to avoid his topic again in favor of a safer theme.

"Master Olin is a wonderful master. I'm very grateful he chose me."

"I certain that masters were lining up to request you as their padwan."

Caleb laughed, "I am unusually strong in the Force, but power is hardly the most important thing when it comes to being a Jedi."

Anakin smiled, "Oh I know that better than anyone. I am much stronger in the Force than most could dream about, but that does not make me the best Jedi by any stretch of the imagination. Not now and certainly not when I was younger. I was a terror to poor Master Kenobi during my years as a padwan learner. He claimed that I was responsible for every one of his white hairs."

Caleb smiled in return, but it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere. "Master Olin is a wonderful master," he repeated.

"As was Master Kenobi, but" Anakin gave the child a rueful look, "that didn't stop me from complaining."

That was clearly the right thing to say because Caleb burst out, "I just feel like he doesn't understand me sometimes. Like he's never asked the questions I do." He hesitated a moment before continuing softer, "and I wonder if I'm the only one who feels this desire to know and if that means there's something wrong with me. If I'm not the Jedi I should be."

He looked down and after worrying his bottom lip for a few moments he asked, "did you ever feel anything like that."

"Yes. Often."

Caleb looked up, searching Anakin's eyes, clearly surprised, "but you're the Chosen One," again the flinch was missed, "how could you–" he broke off and looked down again, "I'm sorry That's really none of my business."

"I don't mind. Besides, most of what we've discussed is not technically your business, but I answered." Anakin could feel Caleb's confidence renew and the boy soon spoke again.

"You were part of the legendary Jedi team, right?"

"I think legendary is going a bit far, but we were a good pair during the Clone Wars."

"So, why aren't you paired up any more?" Caleb's eyes widened as he realized that he had just possibly been rude again but Anakin answered before he could apologize.

"After I became a master I was given more solo assignments. On the counsel he must be on Coruscant often while I prefer to travel. He was training your bother while I was in dangerous situations only a master or knight should be in, certainly not a padwan." Anakin shrugged. "There were many factors."

The blue-eyed teen smiled thoughtfully, while running a finger along the cup's rim. His next words were a mixture of a question and a statement. "So there was no big fight or anything, just drifting apart."

.

_Obi-Wan and he became close during the Clone Wars, closer than they had ever been during his apprenticeship. Really, fighting back to back, living side by side, how could they not become close? But there was always that distance between them. Anakin's lies created an invisible barrier that they couldn't get around. Anakin didn't know if Obi-Wan ever noticed, but he felt it keenly._

_ So many times he wanted to tell Obi-Wan the truth, but he told himself that it was just for now and as soon as the war was over all the lies would be done away with for good._

_ He was better at lying to himself than he thought._

_ The first things Anakin noticed the night the Clone Wars ended were the bodies. He nearly tripped over one as he entered the Chancellor's office. Then he heard crackling and screams. He followed the noise. The wind whipped at his cloak and he stepped back. Crunch. He looked down and saw himself reflected in a million shards of broken glass. Purple and white caught his eye and he saw Sidious and Windu framed in an opened, no broken, window._

_ He moved forward, not listening as both called for his aid. He already made his decision. Sidious wove quite the tale for him about defeating death. It was nothing more than a web of lies with Sidious as the spider. Anakin supposed that he was to take up the role of the fly. Deception was the way of the Sith and Palaptine had fooled them all for so long, why should he believe that a new knight was any better at seeing the truth than an ancient master. A good assumption. But though Anakin was no Sith, he was also an expert on lies._

_ But of course a different story came out. Master Jinn's claims were vindicated! Anakin Skywalker was indeed the Chosen One! He defeated the Sith and at last brought balance to the force! The Clone Wars was over, the darkness lifted and there was celebration throughout the galaxy!_

_ Anakin didn't see either Padme or Obi-Wan that night and he was glad, either of them would see through him without the least bit of effort in such a state. For he realized that night that either he was not the Chosen One or the Prophecy was a lie as well._

_ Obi-Wan reported in from Utapau to learn not only of the war's end, but also of his former padwan's ascension to Master hood. Anakin got himself back under control by the time his former master got back and asked to speak with the man privately._

_ "Of course, I've just got to report in to the Council then I'm all yours. But then," Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled, "you're a member of the council are you not."_

_ "No I, I withdrew"_

_ "Withdrew?" Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up. Anakin made no secret of the fact that he believed himself worthy of the council years ago. The idea that he would willingly give up the spot was, well, shocking._

_ "Yeah, I didn't really deserve it anyway."_

_ Obi-Wan was surprised again. He looked closely at his former apprentice and saw the once arrogant boy spoke the truth. He honestly didn't believe that he should be on the council. He shook his head fondly and placed a hand on the boy's, no man's, shoulder._

_ "Only you Anakin could find a way to be arrogant in defeat and humble in the face of such victory. You do deserve the seat and your master hood." Then he met the storm-blue eyes and spoke, "you're a fine Jedi Anakin, and I couldn't be prouder of you."_

_ Anakin lowered his eyes and Obi-Wan walked away. Anakin's words, his confession, turned to ash in his mouth as a razor slashed his heart to pieces. He silently screamed. Now! Now when he was ready to tell everything, when he was going to confess all he did wrong now his master was finally proud of him. How could he reveal his deception during what was to be celebration? How could he taint his master's time of joy and pride with the revelation of his own sins, robbing the older man of the satisfaction of seeing him succeed?_

_ Some other time, some other time. Not now._

_ So that day they talked instead of the war and what was to happen to the Clones and how the Jedi were going to readjust to peace. Important topics, interesting topics, but not what needed to be said._

_Anakin still refused the council seat._

_ Being around Obi-Wan became torture that he tried to avoid at all costs without revealing his pain or reasons. Luckily he was already an expert at wearing a mask before his masters. Obi-Wan saw them drift apart, but chalked it up to Anakin being a Master and gaining new responsibilities. It was a natural thing that they would not be as close when Anakin was twenty-three as they were when he was nine. Obi-Wan felt the pain that all parents do when their children become adults. But he was a Jedi and he was unattached, so he swallowed the pain and wore pride._

_ Anakin though could see past the surface and felt his master's pain keenly. He wanted to comfort the man, but how to do so without revealing the truth? He couldn't. So he was silent. Sometimes Anakin just wanted to damn it all and tell his master everything. His lies made a great, ugly painful thing like a boil, but like a boil he felt if only he had the bravery to break it all those lies would come gushing out and leave him feeling whole and clean. Then the healing could finally begin. But it would hurt, he knew it would hurt. And Obi-Wan's perception of him would change forever. There would always be that knowledge of what he kept concealed, his ability to lie so well. Next time Anakin spoke to his master, would the man trust him, or ask if this was another lie. Life wasn't a board game; you couldn't just pick up the pieces and start over. Every decision changed things, for better or worse, but things could not be unchanged any more than actions could be undone or words could be unsaid. There was more than his marriage hidden too. What about the massacre on Tatooine or the death of Count Doku or his dabbles in the dark side during the war or all the other things he did wrong?_

_ Then one day when they were passing in the hall Obi-Wan caught his arm. Anakin looked into his master's eyes and saw pain there. Fresh, raw, pain. In a tightly controlled voice his former master asked if he was busy that evening and if not if he could come by._

_ Their conversation that night was forced onto pleasant, neutral topics. But there was such tension between them it was sandpaper being rubbed across opened nerves._

_ "Have you much interaction with any of the younglings?" Obi-Wan asked._

_ "No, I'm afraid not," Anakin answered casually although the Force, humming with tension their entire conversation, hit a sudden crescendo._

_ "I just observed one of their lightsaber training classes today myself."_

_ "Already looking to replace me?" Anakin easily smiled to show his master he was speaking in humor._

_ "Anakin, training you was as strenuous as having three padwans at once. I'm not looking for a repeat though," he also gave a smile, "it might be nice to have a learner who actually learns,"_

_ "Oh Master, I always learned. Eventually."_

_ "Indeed," Obi-Wan sipped his tea, "there were two students of note – the Whitesun twins, Luke and Leia."_

_ It was in that moment that Anakin realized that the term lead stomach was not just a term thought up by fanciful writers._

_ "Anakin, was there anything you wished to tell me?"_

_ "No Master I," he swallowed, "please don't make me talk about it."_

_ There was a pause before Obi-Wan spoke again, speaking in a carefully controlled voice._

"_Please."_

_Anakin looked down. He could not refuse Obi-Wan's plead so he opened his mouth to speak the truth (now was his chance!) but fear was an old friend and moved quickly._

"_They were not planned, and, and we, I, we… thought that it would be better for them to be here. We never dreamed that our actions that one night would–" he broke off deliberately. There, enough of the truth for him not to be caught in a lie._

"_So they were the result of passion," Obi-Wan mused and Anakin knew his old master was picturing a one-night stand. The conversation was forced back to other topics and they parted ways for the evening._

_Anakin didn't sleep well that night, or the nights after. He lay awake in bed and thought. What if his master found out the truth? The evasion was not a technical lie, but no one could think of it as anything other than deliberation deception. What if he or his master died, the lie would mean so little then. What if the truth eventually came out, Obi-Wan would want to hear it from him first. But what could he say when his master asked why he deceived the man that night? Why couldn't he have just told the truth? Why did he have to be so afraid? Fear was always there, and the longer he held off the worse it grew. He _would_ tell his former master. He would do it after a successful mission, let that be a peace offering of sorts. He would bring Obi-Wan to Dex and just lay it out. He would tell his old master before a mission and leave before they had time to discuss it in depth._

_Some times when Anakin was particularly disturbed he would think of things he could do wrong to make his marriage seem inconsequential in comparison. He never did more than think and he knew in his heart that he couldn't go through with any of his ludicrous ideas which ranged from being a spice addict to becoming a Sith Lord._

_He resolved one evening to just do it, now, before he could get second thoughts. This resolved frightened him enough to spend most of the evening emptying his stomach in the freshener. Padme was asleep when he slipped out. He stood there, before his old master's door, he tried to raise his hand to knock, to just do it. He could feel the man asleep on the other side, but then turned away._

_Instead Anakin concocted a web of lies should the truth ever come out and continued his charade, ignoring every perfect opportunity while at the same time asking the Force for just one more day, he would do it eventually, he swore. Meanwhile the chains on his heart grew heavier and heavier. Still his fear was greater than his desire for freedom. It always had been._

_It turned out all his fears and plans were unnecessary. Anakin was there when Obi-Wan met Caleb. The older man just raised his betrayed, weary eyes to meet Anakin's, and then turned away._

_They did not seek each other out, did not speak again until years later._

"_Master Skywalker, I thought you would be interested to learn that I just took Luke Whitesun as my padwan learner." Anakin looked up from the datapad he was reading and met Master Kenobi's eyes. "He's a fine young man and will no doubt make a great knight some day."_

_There was a pause, so much there, so much that needed to be said that neither could bring themselves to say. Then Master Kenobi continued, "he's a credit to his parents."_

_There was no thought any more about confessions or truth. Neither of them expected such a thing._

"_I'm sure he is and I'm sure he'll be a wonderful padwan."_

_Master Kenobi bowed and left. Master Skywalker returned the bow and went back to reading. It was the last time they ever spoke to each other and neither gave any indication, then or afterward, that they were once brothers._

.

"Just a thousand and one things wedging their way in like grains of sand." Anakin grimaced at his own choice of words. "I really hate sand."

The Caleb frowned, "I thought Jedi weren't supposed to hate anything."

"Whoever wrote that part of the code never made his home on Tatooine." Again the teen's emotions spiked, this time at the word home. Again Caleb debated whether to talk about what he came for, or find another tangent. This time he apparently decided to ease his way into the former.

"The Jedi Temple is my home. It always has been. I have no memories of anywhere else. I have no memory of anything from before, or anyone from before." Anakin waited for him to continue. After a moment the boy's shoulders slumped.

"I have no memories of my parents," the child's voice dropped into an almost-whisper, "and I really wish I did."

Anakin couldn't respond to this. He wasn't prepared for this. He wasn't sure if the pain he was feeling was the child's or his own. He desperately grabbed the Force to control his emotions. Caught up in his own mind and heart Caleb didn't notice the effect his words were having on the living legend across from him. The legend that was far more vulnerable than most people would ever know.

"I mean I know why they gave me up and I know that it was all for the best, but…" he trailed off for a moment before beginning again "did you ever resent your mother after she gave you to the Jedi?"

"No," Anakin somehow managed to speak, "she spoke to me before I left and I understood. It hurt, but I knew, know, why she thought I would have a better life among the Jedi and why she let me go. I suppose that's the greatest difference. I was old enough to understand and old enough to have some say in what was going on."

"While I did not."

"I'm sorry." The sentence came out so hurt and pained, were it a living thing it would have bled. Caleb looked up, surprised. He could feel and hear that Master Skywalker was speaking the truth. He was sorry, very sorry. Then he lowered his eyes again and mentally scolded himself. Of course the Great Master meant it. The older man was naturally empathetic, hadn't he heard stories of Master Skywalker emotionally becoming attached in every situation he was sent to? Naturally the plight of another Jedi weighed heavily on him. Caleb almost snorted but refrained because the man might believe that Caleb was scoffing at him and the padwan had made quite enough faux pas for one conversation, thank you very much. Still, to think of his own insecurities as a plight. Caleb shook his head.

"Don't worry. It's nothing big. I just wonder, sometimes, what they would think of me? Do you think," he looked wistful and very young as longing entered his voice, "that they would be proud of me?"

_.  
_

_~ Istilqa, nawm amiq, suairce istilqa habibi mawlud_

_Anta cô habibi iba wa farah~_

_~Sleep, deep sleep, sweet sleep my baby  
You are my pride and joy~_

_Anakin sang to the infant girl in his arms. His precious princess, his little Leia. At six months he could already tell that her bother would be the easier child. Luke only asked to be changed, fed, and held once in a while. Leia, in contrast, needed to be waited on hand and foot. He smiled down at her, her brown eyes sparkling with some hidden joke. She would be the splitting image of her mother, he was sure of it. He would be beating off boys with his saber. Abruptly his joy withered._

_If Luke and Leia were raised by the Jedi he would never know if his predictions were true._

_He and Padme hadn't discussed_ it_ yet. Honestly, he didn't know he was going to be a father until about a month before the twins were born and then with the whole thing with Sidous, the end of the war, the mess with the Republic senate, the wreck that Palaptine made of the constitution and all the rest they didn't have time to discuss the future. Or maybe they just refused to make time, knowing the likely outcome and putting it off, not letting it become really yet. Anakin glanced back at their bedroom where Padme slept, exhausted. Juggling her job and their children wore her out and she didn't have the Force to help her. Their children, but would they be raised as their children? Anakin felt a sudden burst of empathy for his mother. Is this what she felt? Shmi sent him off, telling him not to look back, knowing he would have a better future among the Jedi… Suddenly his gentle mother became stronger than any warrior he ever knew or heard about._

_Still, he and Angel could raise their children, give them love and affection and freedom and everything they could want or need, right? Wrong, and he knew it. He could lie to himself about anything and everything else but where his children were concerned he refused to do any such thing._

_Growing up Anakin always wanted to join the Jedi and even though he disagreed with the code, even though Padme's arms were home, he knew he belonged there. A force-strong felt different than a force-sensitive, felt different than a force-touched, felt different than a force-blind. The Temple, full of force-strongs and force-sensitives, _felt_ right. He could already tell that his precious little ones took after their daddy in terms of force powers. Evidently the Force hated his family. He would not deny his children their heritage, their right, their home, whatever it did to him._

_But he didn't want to let them go. He wanted them to stay with him where he could keep them safe from everything bad in the universe for the rest of their lives. Anakin felt like a nux, growling and bristling, warning off potential threats to his offspring. This couldn't be healthy. He always_ needed_ to protect, it was written into his DNA. Whenever there was someone in need of help Anakin would jump in. But he always had sense of practicality and self-preservation – not much (especially if his former master was to be believed) but some. His sense of protection for Padme was in a different league all together. Then there was no room for error, no withdraw for compromise. Around her he foolishly believed there could be no stronger pull. But when he first held Luke Anakin realized how wrong he was. This was beyond insanity. If the Jedi and Sith orders bound together and turned up on their doorstep he could take them on for his children's sake. That didn't matter though. Battle wasn't what was needed here. His little ones needed a different kind of strength from him._

_His princess evidently decided she had been ignored long enough and began to fuss. Anakin bent his head and continued to sing, all the while wondering if she would be able to remember his song. He carried her over to the crib she shared with her brother and lay her down next to him. Luke opened his blue eyes and cooed at his father. Anakin ran a metal hand across first a blond head then a brown one. Luke and Leia. His pride and his joy._

_Luke tried to pat the big hand in the crib with him as he felt sadness from the Tall Man, the one that was always there when it was dark, though never when it was light. Luke had very little understanding of the world but the force and his instincts combined had him attempting to comfort the Tall Man as best he could. Leia tried as well as a single tear baptized her forehead._

_Anakin could protect, that was never in doubt, but that wasn't needed. He needed to learn to let go of those he feared to lose._

_ Anakin's eyes remained wet, but no more tears fell as he continued his mother's song._

_.  
_

_~Anta cô a' ruh cha owa tûbh staigh habibi fhëin ruh_

_Arafa cha anta cô a' mhôr priscil earrainn min ana, a' mhôr priscil earrainn min ana~_

_~You are the soul that is within my own soul  
Know that you're the most precious part of me, the most precious part of me~_

_Anakin sang to Caleb, rocking the baby boy softly._

"_It's the right thing to do," Padme's weary voice came from the balcony. Anakin looked up to see his angel framed by Coruscant's night. She stood on the balcony with a brush dangling forgotten in her fingers, looking out over the city. Abruptly he remembered she was standing in the exact same spot when she spoke about going back to Naboo and fixing up a nursery overlooking the garden. She did in fact create one. It was perfectly preserved and sitting there, empty and waiting for children it would never hold. Without fail she would lay a gift in each cradle on their birthday, even if Luke or Leia would never see them or know about them. Anakin supposed that she would do the same for Caleb._

"_I know."_

"_He'll be happy there, and it's our duty to do what's best for him."_

"_I know."_

"_It's the right thing to do," she repeated. Anakin could feel his wife's pain through the force, but was helpless to stop it. Caleb was as strong as either of his siblings and would be best off with the Jedi, just like Luke and Leia. Padme was right; they both knew what needed to be done. That didn't make it hurt any less._

_She turned and walked back to them, her husband and second son. Without a word between them Caleb was passed from Anakin's arms to hers. Padme held her child, looking down into her Ani's sky blue eyes. He was such a wonderful baby, perfect in every way. She would sometimes stop what she was doing just to go to his crib and count his fingers and toes, and nuzzle his cute nose. She would hold him and talk and say how wonderful he was and wasn't he her perfect little boy?_

_He was so beautiful and wonderful. He was a testimony of his parent's love and the most precious, most perfect, part of herself. She could almost feel his heart beat in time with hers, almost see his pure soul, a sliver of both from her own heart and soul. A part of her now a part him._

_Caleb looked up at mama and giggled, trying to catch one of her curls. Failing, he instead stuffed his fist into his mouth and gummed it contently._

_Padme tried to control herself. She wasn't the only mother to give up her children. Shmi let Anakin go and her own parents gave her a great deal of independence, she became princess at twelve and queen at fourteen, no longer living in their house. How many infants were given to the Jedi each year? She was far from alone. Padme remembered reading the statistics at one point and feeling pleased that there would be so many peacekeepers for the next generation and proud of all the brave parents that did what was best for everyone. Now she felt selfish, wanting to keep her children and telling the universe to go take care of itself._

_Jedi training aside, how many parents let their children be raised by others because they knew it would be for the best. Young parents giving the babe to an older married couple, poor leaving the children at orphanages… there were many heart-breaking examples. Padme wanted to raise her son herself, but she had to think of Caleb, not herself. Anakin had mentioned how the Temple felt to force users and reported that five-year-olds Luke and Leia were happy. Even if they kept Caleb how would she explain the lies that governed their lives – how she was married but that was not common knowledge, older siblings that he wasn't supposed to know about and who would never know about him, a father he couldn't acknowledge, the list went on. They had to give Caleb to the Jedi._

"_It's the right thing to do," she said again as tears began to fall. This times Anakin didn't respond out loud but just wrapped his arms around the two of them. He held her like he did as she cried herself to sleep at night, mourning her children. It was the only comfort he could give._

_Anakin rest his head on her shoulder and looked down a Caleb. Another child that might never remember them… regardless he sang the lullaby._

.

_~Aux aisling rakasa an äné ras al leila wa amala anta basma_

_Aux hulum ghanna sin anta bi lutf, izan bi lutf, wa amala äné qalb buidhe~_

_~May visions dance in your head tonight and make you smile_

_May dreams sing to you softly, so softly, and make your heart glad~  
_

_Anakin sang softly to the little boy in his arms, Mark Naděje Skywalker. Even though he and Padme insured that their children's last names were recorded as Whitesun, they kept the first names that were so lovingly picked._

_Luke Anakin meaning warrior of light. Leia Amidala meaning unbeaten heart. Celab Eamon meaning fierce protector. Mark Nadeje meaning fighter for hope._

_Anakin knew why Angel choose the name Nadeje – hope. He knew too what she so desperately hoped for. He held the boy and wondered how he was to walk into the next room and tell her these hopes and dreams were for naught as well. His heart hurt, such new raw pain, as he acknowledged that he and his wife would never be able to raise any of their children. It appeared that the force was too strong in him for him to ever lead a normal life. Of course he already knew that but it had always been such a positive thing before…_

Fool! You think that you can have all the benefits of being _different_ and _special_ and none of the drawbacks?

_For a moment he wanted to fight, to rage against the universe, but found he couldn't. This final defeat drained him._

_Anakin stood and walked to the door looking in on his wife. She rolled over on the bed to look up at him. She didn't need to ask the question that had haunted her all nine months of her pregnancy; she could see the answer in her husband's eyes. Anakin watched as he saw a part of her die. He supposed it was the same part that died in him when he felt Mark's force signature. She turned away to look at the wall. Anakin moved to leave without comment._

"_Not again" she spoke suddenly. He turned back to her, but she was still determinedly staring at the wall. He voice didn't waver; she was strong even when broken. "Not again."_

_Anakin nodded his eyes moved down to meet the brown eyes of his last child._

"_Never again," he agreed. He didn't think that either of them could survive being broken again without shattering._

.

_~Ahad nahar anta tio adafa äné sawt sin a' sawt min kawn habibi mawlud_

_Ahad nahar anta tio rakasa ma' a' soillseadh najma habibi mawlud~_

_~One day you'll add your voice to the voice of universe, my baby  
One day you'll dance with the sparkling stars my baby~  
_

_Anakin sang into the currents of the force, looking out at the Jedi temple from his and Padme's balcony and using the force to wrap unseen arms around his beloved children. His children who could never remember him, could never know him. He sang to them his mother's song, knowing they couldn't understand the language. He whispered it in their dreams knowing it would fade like mist come morning. Maybe it meant nothing, but he couldn't stop interacting with them entirely. They were his children and his heart ached every day at being so close and so far._

_Some days he wanted to pull them from the temple and go back to Tatooine or flee to wild space with Padme where they could be a family. But he would not deny his children their right to their heritage. Nor would he take them from the only home they had ever known._

_What would happen if the family stayed and their connection were known? Ignoring all the fuss about code breaking and the uproar about him having offspring at all, how would it affect his precious children? They would be singled out by peers, younger, and elders, all alike. Worst of all, the Jedi would keep him apart from his little ones, insuring there would be no chance for __nepotism or the like. Better to be able to see and know them, even from a distance, even if they couldn't know him at all, than kept away from them always._

_~Gos a uair, istilqa, istilqa habibi mawlud istilqa_

_Wa arafa uhibu anta gun sguir, arafa uhibu anta gun sguir~_

_~Until then, sleep, sleep my baby, sleep.  
And know I'll love you forever, know I'll love you forever~_

.

"Caleb," Anakin managed to say, for the first time using the child's name to address the one sitting across from him. The boy looked up at him through brown bangs and Anakin met his own blue eyes watching him longingly from the face of his second son. "I know they would be very proud of the man you are and the man you will become. And I'm sure they would tell you so if they could."

The teen smiled and released a breath, feeling as if a weight had been lifted, though the Force told him that it was something more than generic comfort that drove the older Jedi's words. But it was not his business to pry, he had done quite enough of that already.

"Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if they raised me," he mused out loud. Anakin didn't responded, his eyes distant.

Caleb stood; he had used up enough of Master Skywalker's time already. The Master came back to himself at the padwan's movements and stood as well, "I hoped that I helped you in some way Padwan Whitesun."

"Oh yes master. Thank you." He turned to go before another question suddenly occurred to him, "Master?" Anakin was using the Force to put away the cutlery they had used. He raised his eyebrows in response as the dishes dried themselves with a towel.

"How did you become who you are?"

Anakin blinked at the question before looking thoughtfully away. In the background the cabinet doors opened and closed as he moved to the window. He looked out over Coruscant as the sunset turned the buildings orange and red and the aircars reflected the light in quick silver glimmers. He saw 10,000 Rebublica lightly dipped in color. He would join Padme tonight just as soon as he could slip away. She would want to hear about Caleb.

"I lived and learned," he said out loud, in his mind he answered, 'I learned to lie, to everyone. I lived lies, and despite appearances, I was right that night by the fire. It destroyed me.'

Caleb nodded and left, but paused at the door, looking back at the legend framed by the window as the sunset played colors across his face. He noticed the great master's eyes were closed and wondered what the man was thinking of. Perhaps the Chosen One was looking into the future even now, or another reality, or inquiring of the Force the path the Jedi should take or… Caleb bit his lip, holding back the desire to ask. He had distracted the man enough for one evening. Master Skywalker surely had much more important things to do than spend time indulging a padwan. He slipped out, ridding himself of the arrogant idea that the Son of Suns would waste time thinking about him. Sure every force-sensitive in the Temple hoped to gain Master Skywalker's personal attention, but none ever had. Caleb disappeared down the corridor still wondering where the Chosen One's thoughts lay.

.

**The sunset reflected in the water as Anakin and Mark waded to shore. Leia, having neatly flipped the tables on her bothers, was sashaying into the house. Obi-Wan stood in the doorway, shaking his head at the antics of his niece and nephews, but Anakin could feel his old master's amusement. Obi-Wan turned back into the house as Padme called for help setting the table. Between his and Leia's force abilities, the task was done by the time the remaining Skywalkers arrived. Anakin used the Force to nudge a basket out of Caleb's reach as the teenager tried to grab one of the rolls.**

** "You know the rules. Wash up first." Caleb nodded, brushing his hair out of his eyes as the wet locks attempted to stick to his forehead. Anakin shared a smile with his old master, knowing very well the man was remembering the times he had to remind Anakin himself of the same things. Obi-Wan and Leia had taken their seats already and moments later Luke joined them. As the three began to talk Anakin turned to look out over the lake and just breathe in the joy he was feeling. Closing his eyes, he turned his head to catch a breeze and wondered just why he was so blessed. A pair of arms wrapped around his chest and he smiled as he turned to face the owner.**

** Padme smiled up at her husband, "is everything alright?"**

** Anakin pressed his lips against hers, arms drawing his bride close. Tender and warm, the kiss allowed them to share their love and devotion in a way words never could. He drew back and looked into her eyes and his heart sang. Then he whispered against her lips, "Perfect."**

** And it was the truth.**


End file.
